While driving leisurely along, conversing on different topics, we came to a blacksmith's shop on a three-corners, and the old gentleman remarked that when we came to the toll-gate, if I would tell the old lady gate-keeper that I came in at that shop, I could save some toll; adding, that she needn't know but I picked him up somewhere on the road.
"Yes, that's so," I answered. "That's a mighty good scheme."
He seemed to feel highly elated at suggesting such a brilliant idea.
As we were approaching the toll-gate, I said: "I wish you would pay my toll, and when we get to town I will get some change and hand it back to you."
When we stopped at the gate he asked: "How much?"
The old lady says: "How far have you come on the pike?"
He turned to me as if expecting me to answer; but I was suddenly taken with a severe fit of coughing.
The deacon said: "This gentleman came in at the blacksmith shop."
"Four cents," said the gate-keeper. We drove on, and when I began to laugh he asked what was up.